remnants
by emberin
Summary: AAI, pre-game. The white cloth held within it the remnants of a dark memory, but also the reminder of a promise. Spoilers for Case 4.


remnants

An Ace Attorney Investigations Fanfiction

NOTE: Spoiler alert for Case 4, or pretty much just AAI.

DISCLAIMER: Ace Attorney Investigations and its characters belong to Capcom and Nintendo.

* * *

The white cloth sat on her desk, neatly folded and cleaned. It had occupied that spot for a very long time; every so often she would wash and iron it again to get rid of any dust that may have settled, but she always put it back in the exact same spot, making sure that she could see it. She had it put it there to remember where it was, why she was still chasing after everything, and a promise that she wouldn't break.

She had been young, and naïve - how else could she have cried into it instead of the handkerchief he had so clearly offered in his hand? No, she had not cried in front of them, she told herself. She would not break the promises in her notebook. But it was hard to deny the soft feeling of the cloth, something she marvelled at even after washing it so many times. And every time she would take it into her hand, tears would well up in her eyes, as though her body instinctively remembered the reason for which she took the cloth to begin with.

No, not took: borrowed.

She looked out her window. The same tall tree greeted her, the way it had for seven years, just as the sun rose. She remembered how she would watch sunrises with her father, whenever she wasn't too tired to get up, from the balcony of their apartment. But her home was no apartment any more; it was so far away from where she used to live that there were hardly any traces of her former life left - except for the sun, a few boxes that she kept in her room, and that white cloth.

They probably wondered where she had gone after everything had happened seven years ago, after the gunshot rang clear in the courtroom, after the chaos that had ensued.

That white cloth had haunted her for the first little while - she would see it and burst into tears, remembering the harsh memories of that day. It was a painful reminder that her father was no longer with her. But she had told herself not to lose the cloth, because she had to remember to return it. Even though she had moved to a new house far away, she had kept it with her, and it had taken its place on her desk the day she arrived.

And it sat there, making it so that she never forgot the day or the promise.

Next to the cloth was a small black device, which she promptly slipped into her pocket. Finding it had been the result of long hours digging through her boxes, constantly searching for any hints of that day's events and what exactly had been in her father's mind the entire time. She had been proud to find it; she loved the name it had been given, it was adorable. She was a girl, after all, and girls would find things cute. She had heard enough of her relatives' whispers to know that she would not let her childhood be robbed from her. Her father would want to see her happy, she knew that, and so she tried to live every moment with a smile on her face - she was smiling his share and hers.

Yet that cloth would greet her after her happiest moments, reminding her of what she had left to do. A cloth that she had only borrowed from someone, someone who would not remember a stranger like her.

No, she was not a stranger to them, not any more. They might not remember her immediately, but they could not have forgotten her, and she certainly remembered them – the beige trench coat, the small riding crop, the maroon suit. The seven years that passed, they only made those people a little more familiar to her as she smoothed out her memories each time she washed the cloth again. She would hear the laugh of that treacherous woman, see the bullet fly from the gun in her hand, and feel the panic that struck her heart as though she were in that moment.

However, despite her fears of that day, she never shrunk away from that cloth; she would also smell the courtroom Swiss rolls and feel the comforting embrace of that trench coat, hear the lash of the crop and see the hidden kindness behind those piercing eyes. Those people had acted for her sake, and she would not let their efforts go to waste. She would find what they were seeking the answer to this entire time, she told herself.

And she had found it - the truth.

Quietly, she wrapped her hair into a ponytail and carefully inserted her hair sticks in. She gathered her scarf and wrapped it around her, pinning the golden three-legged raven onto it. That raven – after so long, after searching for clues in her father's things, she had found the truth of the matter. That the raven was indeed noble and brave, everything she ever saw in her father and dreamed of being.

And now, with the truth in hand, she would meet them again; she would bring the truth to him. After so long, after nights of being in that cloth's presence, she had reached her goal.

The cloth had fulfilled its purpose, and it was time to return it.

She picked up the white cloth – no, the cravat – and looked at it for a few seconds, wishing that it had been given to her instead of lent. Within its softness were her memories, her motivations, her reasons for succeeding her father in the quest for that elusive prize called the truth. In her mind were slight doubts, and she wondered if she would remember her purpose for these actions if she no longer had the cravat to remind her - would she be one of those people who let the truth fade into the shadows?

But that frilly thing only belonged on one person she knew, and it would have to go back to him, whether he remembered her or not.

She grinned and put the cravat in her pocket and walked out of her room, ready to hunt down its owner. After all, she had borrowed it; he had been a stranger to her.

Perhaps, though, she could take it back for herself later.

* * *

It's been a really long time since I've put anything up here, and this is the first time for an Ace Attorney piece. Playing Investigations got me into writing again, and I was just struck by inspiration when I played Case 4. I hope you enjoyed my little bit of introspective Kay and that it didn't stray too far from what we do know of her, I tend to struggle with that a little bit.

Thank you for stopping by! Who knows, maybe I'll write something again soon.

-EmbeRin


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